The singer-songwriter’s second full-length goes as nice and easy as a flat white on a cool, cloudy afternoon.

If this were the 2000s, chances are Devin Kennedy would have been signed to Hear Music … or at least had his songs played on heavy rotation at Starbucks outlets across the country. Unsurprisingly, Kennedy’s sound is the apropos accompaniment to late afternoon chillouts at a nearby coffee shop while sipping on a flat white while longingly gazing at the window with a wry, lovelorn smile. Or rather, given Kennedy’s popularity in Southeast Asia, just a regular business day, trying to get some work done.

Amusingly, Kennedy makes this precise allusion in the title track of his sophomore release, In My Imagination. Over curlicue guitar riffs and laid-back drum beats, Kennedy sings of quiet infatuation and the anxious, ephemeral joy it entails (“I’m still reminiscing deep in my thoughts / Wishing for something that never was / In this coffee shop, the whole world stops”), recalling Landon Pigg’s 2009 similarly themed single. This lovesick sophistication informs Imagination as a whole, and indeed, Kennedy’s oeuvre thus far, bringing to mind the litany of 2000s-era sensitive male singer-songwriters: think the likes of Pigg, Ryan Cabrera, Howie Day, Pete Yorn, and of course, John Mayer, Kennedy’s chief inspiration.

Similar to Mayer, Kennedy relies on a healthy dose of rhythm and blues to render his sonic palette more colors and textures rather than simply wallow in the out-and-out strummy earnestness that typifies the WGWG next door (that’s White Guy With Guitar for you) sound. This is evidenced in cuts such as the blissed-out, jazz-inflected opener “Falling for You” and “Eventually,” which astutely encapsulates Kennedy’s hopeful romantic schtick, all bareboned guitar riffs and heartfelt declaration (“I know impossible things can come true / One day you’ll love me the way I love you” goes the song’s chorus), wrapped in Kennedy’s understated, suave voice.

On that note, it’s easy to see why Kennedy’s music has resonated with the Asian crowd. For one, there’s the population’s storied penchant for rhythm and blues (R&B icon Mya momentarily and exclusively decamped to the Japanese market as her American career floundered) and for lovey-dovey pop songs. In the grander scheme of things, Kennedy follows the footsteps of his softboi peers (LANY, Lauv) and soulful lotharios (Daniel Caesar, one-time collaborator Pink Sweat$), joining the ranks of North American musicians who rake in bigger numbers and crowds in the Far East compared to their home turf. 

It doesn’t hurt either that he’s a conventionally attractive White boy singing heterosexual love songs, making him an even easier sell in a region rife with LGBTI discrimination and general obsession with anything and everything American. Contrast this to, for instance, Troye Sivan who, due to his overt gayness, did not quite break through in the region in the way Kennedy and his compatriots have despite doing capital-P Pop music and shooting a high-budget music video in a Southeast Asian metropolis backed by a rigorous social media campaign.

This is, of course, not to take anything away from Kennedy’s talent and the quality of his recordings. If anything, it is refreshing to hear straight-up earnest love songs in the age of overbearingly specific power ballads. Sure, in the pre-streaming rockist age, Kennedy’s music would have most likely been described as “middle-of-the-road” or “by-the-numbers,” but I will once again beg to differ: what’s inherently so bad about MOR-ism? 

After all, there’s no denying that Kennedy’s songwriting is genuinely tuneful, sharp, and emotionally affecting. Veering from his usual romanticism, “What Friends are For” — true to its title, an ode to camaraderie in the vein of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” — cuts straight to the heart with little more than an acoustic guitar accompaniment, while the soft rock groove of “Annie” struts along nicely a la Mayer’s 2018 single “New Light,” complete with a caffeine-ridden couplet that would border on comical were it not for its plaintive sincerity (“Two espresso shots instead of one / ‘Cause I know when you need some extra love”). I guess that’s that him espresso.

As it turns out, the album’s biggest surprise arrives at its tail end. Having been occupied with romantic solipsism in the preceding nine tracks, “This Is Where I Leave You” is the jolting, sobering wake-up call, a crash landing into reality set to a country-esque inflection, as if to also say to the listeners, “It’s dusk — now go home and leave all your imagining behind!” The number rounds things out on a high note, a respectable feat for an album already informed by a keen sense of quality control: Imagination clocks in at under 30 minutes with only ten tracks, preventing it from being a full-on wallowing session yet stuffed up with enough sonic goodness and emotional variety to keep you not only engaged but also fixated.

Two albums and one EP in, Devin Kennedy has proven himself to be a competent singer-songwriter with songwriting chops and production skills to watch out for. Here’s hoping that he continues to hone his craft and provide more interesting artistic turns moving forward. In the meantime, it goes without saying that even his imagination is the real deal and one worth basking in … preferably with an extra cup of coffee.